


My Soul is Not a Ragdoll

by optionalposter



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Reader has a bit of an anxiety attack so watch out, Someone gets kinda handsy, Suggestive, This is meant to be like really cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optionalposter/pseuds/optionalposter
Summary: You have a bad day. A really awful day.What happens when your boyfriend interrupts your downward spiral?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my very first fic. Please be gentle, but I welcome any sort of constructive feedback! I'm really a sap for loving and healthy relationships and I've just started to think of my own little drabbles for Undertale characters and I might try to post more eventually.

You come home steaming mad. You want to kick and scream and writhe until you tire yourself out. You were never one to feel anger, much less express it. But this day just started bad and only went downhill from there. Even still, you can’t bring yourself to stomp around or slam the door as you enter your home. 

You have the place to yourself for a while before Sans and Papyrus get home from work. You end up going into your room and collapsing into bed. Getting riled up like this has already exhausted you enough that you need to take a nap. Surely your dreams will be better than today. You can be rational when you wake up. With that thought, you fall blissfully into the darkness of your dream world. 

About a half hour later, you’re woken to the loud chatter of Papyrus telling Sans about the new humans he met today. On any other day, you’d love to go down and join them; Papyrus is always such a ray of sunshine that it’s hard not to smile at his stories. But today you are irritated by the mere sound of his voice. It wouldn’t do any good to go and see them now, when you’re like this. You grab a pillow and begin mashing and pulling at it. You aren’t riled up enough to do any damage, but keeping everything bottled in just hurts. 

As the voices dim down and you can hear the boys settling into their routine, your mind starts to wander. Why hasn’t Sans or Papyrus come to check on you? Why haven’t you at least heard them mention your name? 

Maybe you’re experiencing what they are actually like when you aren’t around. Maybe they don’t even want you here. Maybe they’re glad that you aren’t down there to infect their conversations with your selfish input. 

Oh god, do they hate you? 

They must, but the skeletons are just too kind to act on it. What is there to even like about you? Sans probably just puts up with you because you can sometimes give him a good time and because his brother likes you. Hell, even Papyrus probably doesn’t even actually like you. He probably just thinks that you can do better under his guidance. You won’t, though. What if he gets tired of believing in you? What if –

And then you hear the doorknob turn. You hadn’t even realized you had been hyperventilating. When had the room started to feel smaller? The walls had been closing in on you and you hadn’t even noticed it. But as the door creaks open and some light enters your room, you see the silhouette of Sans before you close your eyes and force yourself to breathe deeply. You pretend to sleep as you can feel the buzzing of magic that accompanies his presence. 

The room practically chokes you with its silence, and you hear Sans walk into the room until he is just above you. He’s not really making any sound, but you can feel that he’s right there. 

In that moment, fear churns in your gut. You don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want to see the disgust on his face. You start to feel the sick weight of anxiety as you wait for what he’s about to do. Surely he hates you. If not hate, he at least doesn’t feel anything more than a passing affection for you. Some fizzling lust, nothing more. Your problems would just scare him off. Why can’t you just be a normal, not broken person? This self-hatred surely isn’t healthy.  
You want nothing more than to open your eyes and tell him all of the things that are plaguing your mind like a sickness right now. But you just stay still and hate yourself enough for the both of you. 

And then Sans is leaning down. He rests a bony hand on your cheek as he nuzzles you in a faux kiss. His hand trails up and into your hair to give it a couple gentle strokes before he pulls away. You realize you stopped breathing. 

Sans fills the silence with a quiet, “guess you were pretty bone-tired today, huh?” before he stands back up to turn and walk out.  
But before you could even convince yourself what a bad idea it was, the words, “Please stay,” slipped from your traitorous lips - a cracked and broken plea.  
Your eyes were now open, watching him. You felt so tormented, but his gentle treatment had been like a single ray of sunshine in your dark void. He turned back to face you with a soft smile on his face. That is, until he saw yours. 

Sans was always good at reading people, and you could only imagine how broken you must have looked in that moment. You felt like a rag doll that had seen far too many years of abuse. Now that he was watching you, all you could think was the years of mental torment you had dealt with. No one wants a broken toy. But then his expression shifted into one of concern, and he immediately took the two steps back to your bed and wrapped you in his arms. 

The familiar scent of winter, of bone, and of nostalgic fall evenings clung to his jacket, and you buried your face into it. While his embrace was gentle (how could you let yourself look so fragile, dammit), your returning hug was nearly bone crushing. You wanted to hold him to you and never let go. You were never good at being angry and throwing things, but it was nice to release the tension that you hadn’t realized was coiled in your muscles. After a few moments, Sans broke the silence with a joke and a wink. 

“hey there bud. bad day? good thing you aren’t sans a comic, anymore.” 

You remained where you were. The witty line was welcome, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. God, why can’t you just be happy for Sans? He pulled back from the embrace, waiting for your response. All you could do was shake your head imperceptibly. 

“wow. it must have really been bad. d’you wanna talk about it?”

You hesitated for a moment. You had been having this argument with yourself since you had gotten home. You wanted so desperately to tell someone just how much you hated yourself. You couldn’t even remember what had happened today to make you angry in the first place. Today didn’t really matter. It was just the spark of the downward spiral you had been on. The whispers of your worthlessness were sinking into your very soul. You wondered, for a moment, if Sans might be able to see the constricting negativity cling to your very being. 

You clutched tighter to him, and thought about how loving and open he looked in this moment. Surely, you could say something. His features seemed open and honest. And if you didn’t get some of this stuff off your chest you might actually suffocate. 

So you open your mouth and say, “Sometimes I really hate myself.” Wow. Smooth. Really ease on into this conversation. That isn’t sure to turn Sans off to ever wanting to listen to you again. 

“well why would you think that?” 

This definitely wasn’t what you were expecting from your boyfriend. He never wanted to confront negative feelings. He would crack jokes until the mood lightened. In most cases, laughter honestly was the best medicine. Watching him school his features into a neutral smile to listen to your ranting wasn’t something that happened often. 

“I just… my job sucks. This whole world sucks. And all I can do about it is sit here and moan about how awful I have it, I guess. Why can’t I do more?”  
Sans draws you back into his embrace. “are you left handed? ‘cause your definitely not right.”

His joke rubbed you the wrong way, and you wanted him to let you go right this instant. But as soon as you made to remove him from you, he released you from his hold and pushed you slowly down onto the bed. Sans trailed his fingers over your skin; from your arm to your shoulder, then up your neck and finally to cup your cheek in his hand. He sat next to you, leaning his other arm lightly on your stomach. 

“you’re so wonderful. me and my bro stumbled across one of the best humans there are. just look at you; cute little nose, great face, a fantastic body. and your eyes. you’re so smart and anyone that looks into your eyes can see that.” 

Sans began to lightly massage your neck and shoulder as you closed your eyes. You made a sound of protest, but he interrupted before you could say anything.  
“i come home to the best bro in the world and a girlfriend that means the world to me. she’s so alive and kind that on some days it takes every bone in my body to leave her to go to work.”

With these words, he shifts to straddle you, giving himself more access to roam his hands around your body. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and shoulders as he begins to nuzzle into your neck. It feels good, almost a little too hot. His hands are wandering your body, and they eventually ruck your shirt up enough to give him access to your belly. 

Sans pulls away enough to trail his mouth down your chest as he continues, “i love the way you look when i just enter a room. i love the way you make me feel when i’m around you. i love curling up into you after saying goodnight to my other favorite person. i love how nerdy you are. how your laughter fills a room when i’ve said some dumb pun to rile up paps. how you welcomed my brother and into your life like we’re really your family. how your heart beats a little faster when you’re excited about something. how your soul just vibrates when i’m near. but most of all, i love you for who you are.”

“Sans, I…” You’re panting by now with all the attention you’re receiving, but he doesn’t relent.

“if you don’t like yourself, i can remind you why you should.”

“There’s so much more that I can do. I should look –“

“you’re perfect the way you are. i love you how you are right now. you can change things if you want, but there’s no reason to push yourself. i don’t expect you to.”

At this point, he just collapses next to you and cuddles up into your body. Sans tangles his legs with yours as he rests a secure arm around your still bare stomach and gently rests his hand on your chest; to fondle your breast or feel your heartbeat, you aren’t sure. He nuzzles his face into yours, and you nearly want to cry with how loved you feel. 

“Thank you, Sans. I… I love you, too. I guess I have been a bit of a meathead.” You give a quiet laugh at your attempt at a joke, and rest your arm around his shoulders. 

The two of you remain like that for a long while. After a few minutes, he starts talking about his day. The quiet rumble of his voice permeates through your entire body, and soothes you into a peaceful slumber. 

Sans really does love you. You’ll try not to forget that.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment! Let me know what you hated, and what you liked.


End file.
